Page 26 of Tides of Shadows

How much better the world would have been, had she sunk into that mire, instead of the boar. I would even grant her the mercy of a swift arrow.

Dricus met my eyes. He knew her words had cut deep. Before he could speak, the sounds of a hunting horn rang out across the court.

They had returned.

“Will you go to the bonfires?” I asked. I was not certain what answer I hoped for.

He grimaced faintly. “To join that riot of drunken Ladies and Lords?” He shook his head. “I shall pass.”

I didn’t know what I had been waiting for. An invitation from him, perhaps. But he clearly didn’t need my company. Nobody’s company.

“Take care of yourself,” he said. “I cannot save you all the time.” He allowed himself a small smile, one that only deepened the lines at the corners of his eyes.

“Perhaps I do it purposefully,” I replied. “So you may rescue me.” It had been a long while since I had allowed myself such flirtation. The rush of emotions after the hunt was still lingering in me.

“Maybe one day you will save me, for a change.” he said.

His gaze lingered on my face, then dropped to my lips. A shiver ran through me as I felt the faint pull of his power, subtle and magnetic. Then, as quickly as it came, he withdrew. He bowed and turned away, leaving in haste, as though he had frightened himself.

I remained alone in the courtyard. The lords came back loud and triumphant. One by one the heirs swung down from their saddles, laughing loudly and boasting of their kills.

The greatest trophy was a huge stag, brought in upon a cart. It was exactly the same one I was about to shoot before the boar attack. A crowd gathered around it, marveling at its size and judging the antlers.

I was wondering who had shot it.

Then he rode in, Cavareth himself. Slightly spattered with dirt, his hair tangled, stains of earth and blood upon his trousers. Even so, he looked infuriatingly good, wild and dangerous.

A fucking asshole.

With a single fluid motion he dismounted and began to accept the congratulations of the others. The men raised their cups in his honor, and the court ladies flocked around him like flies to honey, giggling and showering him with praise for his trophy. I noticed the jealous looks of some noblemen as well. Here, everything was a contest.

I had no desire to keep watching. I turned and started toward the armory, wanting to return the now useless bow and go back to my rooms.

That was when I heard a familiar voice behind me.

“I was hoping for a dress, but I like you this way too.”

Of course. Cavareth.

I had forgotten that I was still dressed in leather. I had only taken off my dirty jacket, so I wore a leather corset that drew my breasts up high, a thin linen shirt beneath, and archer’s bracers upon my forearms.

“Piss off,” I said. I had no strength left for him.

“Are you angry that I did not let you ride to the hunt?” There was laughter in his voice.

I stopped and spun around.

“You did not let me?” I repeated with pity. “You are not my ruler, Cavareth.”

That insufferable, self-assured smile of his.

“A ruler of yours? Oh no, that would be the worst duty in the world,” he admitted lightly. Suddenly his expression changed entirely. His gaze fixed on my cheek, sharp and intent. By instinct, he reached toward my face, but I smacked his hand away.

“Keep your hands to yourself,” I said. “I would rather not know where they have been.”

His brow furrowed.

“Where did you get that?” Aidenar asked, referring to my scratch.